


Bloodsport

by the_fluff_awakens



Series: The Basketball Diaries [4]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Basketball, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Bottom Hux, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Soft Kylux, Underage Drinking, ass eating, ben is a violent person, but not against hux, dear lord please forgive me, holy shit i can't believe i just wrote that tag, i'm sorry but the season is over for now, minimum amount of basketball in a basketball au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 05:58:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7627783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_fluff_awakens/pseuds/the_fluff_awakens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“What are you doing Friday night?”</em><br/><em>“Hux, I’m a high school senior. What do you think I’m doing on Friday night?”</em><br/><em>“Absolutely nothing?”</em><br/><em>“Absolutely nothing.”</em><br/><em>“Would you like to come over for dinner at my place?”</em><br/> <br/>---</p><p>Hux's 18th birthday is fast approaching, and all he wants is to spend it with Ben.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloodsport

**Author's Note:**

  * For [minzimpression](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minzimpression/gifts).



> Okay, a couple of things...
> 
> I started this series before Hux's name was "announced" so he's staying 'Brandon' throughout this whole series. :)
> 
> Hux sometimes refers to Ben as Ren in his head. This is explained in the previous instalment of this series, so whenever the name pops up, know that it wasn't a typo.
> 
> Next, I know I said they were 18 in the first fic, but I really wanted to write Hux's birthday, so maybe I'll edit the tags there. If it makes any difference, Hux was just a month away from being an adult in the first fic, and Ren (I've decided) is a few months away. Anyway, I'm going to hell.
> 
> The title is taken from a Raleigh Ritchie song, and I strongly recommend listening to it (or at least reading the lyrics) because it is perfect for this fic. You can find it [here](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com/post/144190118058/nothing-is-perfect-but-your-imperfections-are).
> 
> Lastly, this looks better when viewed on mobile. Don't ask me why, it just is.

 

 

 

It’s 3:00 am and Hux is still wide awake, his earlier conversation with his parents still running through his head.

_”So what do you want to do for your birthday this year, Branny,” his mom asked over dinner. The forkful of salad stalled midway to Hux’s mouth._

_”Marion, I’ve asked you repeatedly to stop calling him that,” his dad said angrily, fist slamming against the table next to his plate. “Brandon is turning eighteen in four days’ time, he is an adult. You must stop baby-ing him.”_

_Hux gripped his knife and fork in his hands, willing himself not to stab at his steak angrily. He chanced a glance at his mom, who was quietly chewing and staring at her plate._

_”Well, boy? Your mother asked you a question, didn’t she?”_

_He’d wanted to have Ben over for his birthday, to properly introduce him to his parents, but he wasn’t sure his father could go a full meal without being an ass. What if he talked to his mom like that in front of Ben?_

_”I don’t want anything special, can we just have Paulene over so we can have a nice dinner here?” Paulene was a friend of the family’s, almost like a cousin to Hux, who studied at_ Le Cordon Bleu _in France._

_”But it’s your eighteenth birthday, honey,” his mom said, voice still softer than normal. “Not to mention the championship and getting MVP. Don’t you want to have a big celebration?”_

_Hux just shook his head and shrugged, went back to eating to keep from blurting out what he really wanted._

_”If he doesn’t want a party, don’t force him, Marion,” his father said, finishing his glass of whiskey and getting up from the table without even excusing himself. “Your mother will call Paulene first thing tomorrow.”_

_And just like that, his father left. Hux took his mom’s hand and squeezed it, returning the sad smile she gave him._

_”I’m just really not in the mood this year, Mom.”_

_”Alright, Brandon.”_

_”Call me Branny.”_

In truth, Hux hates that nickname, but there is nothing he won’t do for his mom, while pretty much everything he does is to spite his father, from the way he talks to his choice of focusing his time on basketball over academics.

He rolls over on his side to check the clock on his bedside table and groans in exasperation. He has a big test in History tomorrow, and he really needs to get some sleep. Next to him, Millicent is flat on her back and fast asleep, all four paws sticking up in the air. He really wants to bury his face in her fat furry belly because he’s feeling awful, and also because he’s jealous of how easily she can get to sleep. He almost reaches out for her, but he’s worked so hard to train her to sleep at night instead of roaming the house while loudly meowing and disturbing his parents, so he refrains. Instead, he reaches for his phone, opens the messaging app and clicks on his conversation with Ben.  


 

> ### REN  
>    
> 
>   
>  _(Hey.)_  
>  _3:14am_  
> 
> 
> _(hi)_  
>  _3:18am_
> 
> _(It’s a quarter past_  
>  _3 in the morning,_  
>  _why are you still awake?)_  
>  _3:18am_
> 
> _(ure awake too)_  
>  _(whats wrong?)_  
>  _3:19am_
> 
> _(Nothing’s wrong._  
>  _I just can’t sleep.)_  
>  _3:19am_
> 
> _(how was ur day)_  
>  _3:21am_
> 
> _(Eh.)_  
>  _(Can I call you?)_  
>  _3:24am_

 

His phone starts ringing almost as soon as he sends the last message, the word **_REN_** flashing on the screen.

“Hello,” he whispers into the phone, afraid to wake up Millicent.

“Hi.” Ben’s voice is thick and slow.

“You weren’t awake when I texted, were you?” _Shit._ Now he feels guilty.

“Mm…that’s okay.”

“I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“No, I want to talk to you,” Ben insists, clearing his throat. “I’m up.”

“How long have you been asleep?” Hux drums his fingers against his chest.

“Uh, hold on.” Hux hears Ben shifting on the other line, hears what must be the basketball clock on his bedside table being picked up. “Five hours.”

“You fell asleep at 10?” Hux asks incredulously.

“I’m a growing boy,” Ben says chuckling. 

“You grow anymore and I’m going to start calling you Fezzik.”

Hux can’t help but smile at the sound of Ben’s snickering.

“Tell me a story, Ben.”

“Okay. So, Buttercup was raised on a small farm in the country of Florin.”

“Shut up, I mean a personal story, smartass.”

Ben snickers again. “Alright, hmm…okay, did I ever tell you about that time my dad fell into a frozen lake?”

“No,” Hux says, stifling a yawn. “But it sounds like an interesting story.”

“It is. When he first started dating my mom, my grandpa hated him–“

When Hux wakes up a few hours later, his phone’s battery is at 20% and he has three text messages from Ben.  


 

> ### REN  
>     
> 
> _(glad i cld help ü)_  
>  _(gd nite hux)_  
>  _4:00am_  
>  _(nebdy evr tel u_  
>  _ure cute wen u snore)_  
>  _6:00am_

 

Hux scoffs at the last message as he plugs the phone onto its charger. He types a quick, _”I do not snore!”_ before heading to his bathroom to get ready for school. Despite only having slept for three hours, he feels oddly energized, as if he’d had a solid eight hours of sleep.

* * *

  
On Wednesday, Brendol announces that he is needed at the London office over the weekend, so he won’t be home for Hux’s birthday dinner after all. Marion is livid, shouting at him over the breakfast table as he sits sipping his coffee and reading the newspaper. Hux assures them both that he understands perfectly, that he knows his father wouldn’t fly to a whole other continent on his 18th birthday unless it was absolutely important. If there is a slight edge of sarcasm to his voice, his father doesn’t acknowledge it. Brendol simply nods at him once when he leaves for school.

His car isn’t even out of the garage when he dials Ben’s number. He almost hangs up on the third ring, coming to his senses and remembering that Ben might be in school already.

“Hello?” 

Hux can hear voices in the background, as well as sounds of traffic.

“Ben, sorry. Are you in school already?”

“I’m at my stop, waiting for the bus. What’s up?”

“What are you doing Friday night?”

“Hux, I’m a high school senior. What do you think I’m doing on Friday night?”

“Absolutely nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Would you like to come over for dinner at my place?”

“What, like, with your parents and everything?”

“Just my mom. I’m sorry, is that weird?” That stops him short. He didn’t even consider that Ben might not be comfortable with that. Although they’ve been seeing each other steadily for a month now, meeting up at least three times a week, going to the movies or shooting hoops at the arcade or drinking coffee after school, they haven’t exactly had ‘the talk’ yet, and he didn’t want Ben to think he’s inviting him over to introduce him to his parents. Obviously, he’s going to introduce him, but he won’t be _introducing_ him like that.

“No, I don’t know.” He pictures Ben fidgeting, one foot stepping over the other as he stands awkwardly on the sidewalk. “I’m a little nervous. Is there a special occasion? Do I have to wear a tie?”

“Hmm,” Hux considers not telling him, but he figures there’s no way Ben won’t find out anyway. “It’s my 18th birthday on Friday, and no, you don’t have to wear a tie.”

“No shit! And you want me there?” Hux smiles when he can practically _hear_ Ben’s smile, too. “Okay, I’ll come.”

“Okay, great. I’m driving right now, I’ll talk to you later.”

“All right, have a great day.”

“You too.”

When he meets Phasma at the parking lot a few minutes later, she narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, but he can’t wipe the stupid smile on his face.

* * *

  
Friday can’t come quick enough, but come it finally does. Brendol and Marion wake Hux at 4:00 am, his mom smiling down at him in her pink and grey silk robe, his father looking stoic as usual and fully dressed.

“What’s going on?” He sits up in bed, still groggy and frankly a little miffed.

“Happy birthday, honey!” Marion swoops down on him, holding his face in her hands and peppering him with kisses. She kisses his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks, his nose, his mouth.

“Thank you,” Hux mutters between her kisses, eyes shut tight and growing red in the face. When she finally releases him and sits on the bed next to him, she looks up at her husband expectantly, raising an eyebrow as if to urge him to do as they’d rehearsed.

“Happy birthday, son,” Brendol says formally, extending his hand for Hux to shake. It doesn’t feel weird to shake his own father’s hand, it’s the only physical contact they’ve ever had as far as Hux can remember, whether they’re exchanging greetings or congratulating each other. “I need to leave for the airport now, but here. This is from me and your mother.” He pulls a thick white envelope from inside his coat and hands it to Hux. He doesn’t look inside, he knows exactly how much it contains since Brendol’s been giving him money for his birthday since he turned 15.

“Thank you, Sir.” He puts the envelope down on his bedside table. “Have a safe flight.”

“Right,” Brendol says, nodding once. “Marion, I’ll call you as soon as I land.”

“All right, dear,” Marion answers, tilting her head up to let Brendol kiss her cheek.

Once Brendol is out of sight, Marion turns and smiles at him.

“What do you want to do,” she asks, eyes blown wide, making Hux think she’s probably taken more than her prescribed medication this morning.

“Ugh, to go back to sleep please,” Hux says, dropping back on the bed and burying his head under a pillow. He feels his mom pulling the covers up and sliding next to him.

“Okay, honey. Go back to sleep,” she whispers, wrapping her thin arm around his torso. He places one hand over hers and drifts back to sleep.

When his alarm goes off at 7:00 am, the first thing he sees is his mom smiling down at him. It’s a softer one now, not the manic kind from a few hours ago. It’s the smile she gives Hux whenever she’s feeling particularly fond of him.

“Good morning,” he mumbles, stretching his arms up and accidentally nudging Millicent awake, who has apparently been curled up against his headboard this whole time. She bats at his hands angrily before getting up, stretching, and jumping out of the bed in a huff, tail swishing as she no doubt goes to hunt for her food in the great jungle that is their kitchen.

Marion keeps smiling at him, like she’s waiting for him to tell her something. He furrows his brow and returns her smile awkwardly, stretching over her lap to reach for his phone. As soon as he activates the screen, he understands the look.

 

> ### REN  
>     
> 
> _(gd morning ü)_  
>  _(happy bday ♥)_  
>  _(c u l8r)_  
>  _6:43am_

 

He sends a simple _‘Thanks.’_ quickly because he can feel Marion’s eyes on him. He’s flushed enough as it is without telling Ben how much he’s looking forward to seeing him tonight in front of his mother.

“I’m going to go get ready for school,” he says, crawling out of the bed.

“Should I tell Felicia to put an extra place setting on the table tonight for your friend?” His mom affects an innocent tone, she’s always been good at that, even cocking her head to the side and looking up at him like a little girl.

“Yes, please, thank you,” Hux mutters, before disappearing inside his bathroom. He hears Marion squealing with glee outside as she leaves his room. He supposes this is what he gets for never introducing any of his past ‘trysts’ to her, but he’s never actually been with anyone long enough to warrant an introduction. Nor has he ever been with anyone he actually likes spending time with other than to have sex.

He rereads Ben’s messages inside the bathroom, finally letting himself smile, as he sends proper messages while getting ready.

 

> ### REN  
>    
> 
> _(gd morning ü)_  
>  _(happy bday ♥)_  
>  _(c u l8r)_  
>  _6:43am_
> 
> _(Thanks!)_  
>  _7:03am_  
>  _(Looking forward to_  
>  _seeing you later.)_  
>  _7:10am_
> 
>   
>  _7:15am_
> 
> _(Hahaha! Is that_  
>  _supposed to be us?_  
>  _7:15am_
> 
> _(yep)_  
>  _(arnt we cute)_  
>  _7:17am_
> 
> _(Pick you up at_  
>  _3pm, then?)_  
>  _7:20am_
> 
> _(k. i get out @_  
>  _2 2day tho)_  
>  _7:20am_
> 
> _(Be at yours around 3:15.)_  
>  _7:25am_
> 
>   
>  _7:27am_

 

* * *

  
Phasma sidles up next to him in front of his locker at the end of the day. She waits for him to open it before placing a box that’s been wrapped in plain white and silver paper inside.

“Thanks, Phasma,” Hux says smiling up at her. “You really shouldn’t have.”

“Pfff!” Phasma waves her hand dismissively, leaning casually on the locker next to Hux’s. “It’s nothing.”

“From Phasma _and Rey,_ ” he asks, looking questioningly at his best friend after reading the card.

“It’s a little thank you from the both of us. You know, for…” Phasma makes a V out of her index and middle fingers, holding it in front of her mouth and wagging her tongue lewdly through them.

“Okay, okay! Jesus!”

“Go on, then. Open it!” Phasma says excitedly, biting her lip in anticipation.

“Frankly, your excitement gives me pause,” Hux says, unwrapping the present and tossing the wrapper into a nearby trashcan with his left hand. Brow furrowed, he examines the picture on the box—a guy, sipping from a blue mug with a W and an anchor printed in white on it. “Say what you see,” he reads the text written next to the guy on the picture out loud.

“Go on, say it!”

Hux can’t remember the last time Phasma was this excited. “W-ancho–…oh, ha ha! Very funny!”

Phasma finally releases the laughter she’s probably been holding since having first seen the mug, slamming her open palm against a locker and throwing her head back. A group of passing freshmen boys flinch at the sound of her booming laugh, looking over their shoulders as they all but run away from the seniors.

A few minutes later, he’s in his car and headed for Ben’s house, still chuckling at the mug and Phasma’s apparent delight at her own genius. He taps on his phone on the holder next to the wheel and says, “Call Ren.”

“Hey,” Ben says after the fifth ring, sounding a little winded.

“Hi. I’m almost at your place.”

“Oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Hux’s heart sinks. Ben doesn’t sound that excited to see him.

“Nothing, um…what time’s dinner?”

“Promptly at 7,” he says, slowing his car down to a stop at a road shoulder in case he needs to turn around. Maybe Ben’s changed his mind. “It’s okay if you don’t want to come.” He works to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“No, no, of course I want to come,” Ben says hurriedly, and Hux almost breathes a sigh of relief. “My neighbors just dragged me to a pick up game near my house.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll grab some coffee and come back later.” 

“Or you can come watch?”

“Hmm,” he hums, foot already on the gas pedal. The thought of watching Ben playing basketball on his birthday sounds like an amazing gift, if he’s being honest. “Okay, how do I get there?”

“You know that street before mine, with the ugly yellow house at the corner? Turn there and keep driving. You won’t miss us.”

Less than ten minutes later, he’s parking in front of an outdoor half court, and the game looks to be in full swing. It’s shirts versus skins, and Hux is grinning as he steps out of his car, because of course Ben’s team is skins. He leans on his car, arms crossed over his chest, eyes following Ben’s every movement.

He’s wearing dark blue gym shorts, one of his many pairs of basketball shoes (not the ones Hux has seen him wearing during their games), and a fine film of sweat over his broad chest and arms. He’s never really had the chance to just watch Ben play before, as he was obviously playing against him whenever their teams used to meet, and he’s now realizing that despite the guy’s broad frame and general large-ness in everything, he’s actually pretty graceful on the court.

A guy about the same size as Mitaka drives towards the basket and Ben tails him. The guy passes to his teammate closest to the basket who then pulls up for a jumper. Ben is suddenly in front of him, thick thighs straining as he jumps in front of the shooter, long arm stretching over his head. The block is clean, but Hux holds his breath when the guy bumps Ben’s shoulder on his way to retrieve the ball. Hux knows how easily Ben gets riled up when he’s playing, remembering that time he got into it with Rodinon their first game against each other last year. It took three of his teammates and the assistant coach to calm him down after that.

Hux is a little ashamed to admit that his serious attraction to Ben started then. He’s never really liked Rodinon.

Ben turns around and stalks after the guy, and Hux can see his teammates don’t know what to do to stop him, so he steps in.

_“Ben!”_

The effect is instantaneous; Hux sees it in the line of Ben’s bare shoulders, in the softening of his brow. He turns towards Hux and takes a long deep breath, holding his hand up to one of his teammates to call time out.

Ben is smiling when he comes over, his hands coming up to rest on the hood of the car on either side of Hux’s hips. “Hi,” he says softly.

“Hello,” Hux says, feeling self-conscious as he sees the other guys watching them over Ben’s shoulder. “You’re sweaty.”

“You like that?” Ben teases, playing with Hux’s tie.

“Mmm…maybe.”

Ben pulls on his tie and kisses him deeply, pushing against Hux until he’s almost bent over the car. Some of the guys start catcalling, others calling for Ben to _“Stop sucking face with that carrot top and let’s get on with the game!”_

Hux pushes Ben off him gently, smiling when Ben pulls him along by his tie.

“Go back to your game, Solo,” he says, chuckling.

“Happy birthday,” Ben mumbles against his lips. He has a dopey smile on his face when he finally lets go of Hux and his tie. “Be back in a sec.”

The game resumes, and Hux watches from next to his car, fisting his hands in his pockets to keep himself from cheering out loud every time Ben scores or blocks a shot. The guy from before keeps glaring at Ben, but he doesn’t even seem to notice it anymore. This goes on for a few more baskets before the guy says something in Ben’s ear that causes a commotion. Hux pushes off the car, but Ben actually looks calm. He just stands there watching as several guys, three of whom are wearing shirts, start yelling at the other guy. He walks off in a huff, looking murderous and, as he passes Hux, he sneers and spits on the ground. Hux barely manages to move his foot out of the way.

Ben jogs towards him, watching the guy’s back with his brows knit together.

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No. What’s going on?”

“That guy’s not only an asshole, he’s a bigot, too.”

“Ah. Didn’t like our little show, huh?”

“Not one bit,” Ben says, smirking. He looks over his shoulder at the other guys on the court then turns back to Hux. “So, some of the guys recognized you.”

“Did they?” Hux asks, feeling smug. “Do they want me to sign anything?”

Ben laughs, tugging on his tie again. “Okay, Mr. Bighead. Maybe later. They’re asking if you’ll play. I told them you don’t like playing on concrete, though.”

“What’s the score?”

“42-35, skins,” Ben says grinning proudly.

“You’re playing to 50?”

“Yup.”

“Ones and twos?”

Ben’s shoulders droop, and his grin falters. “Yeah…”

“You sure you want me to play on the other team?” Hux smiles, batting his lashes playfully.

“Damn it,” Ben mutters, releasing his tie. He looks down at Hux’s leather Oxfords. “You probably can’t play in those anyway.”

“I always have a pair of sneakers in my car, come on.” He’s already pulling off his blazer and walking towards the back of his car.

“Do you have shorts?”

“I can play in these,” Hux says, shrugging. He knows that sounds conceited, but is it really conceit when it’s also the truth? “Game’s almost over, anyway.”

“Come on, you’ll wreck your uniform.”

“Do you want me to play in my boxers instead?”

Ben pauses at this, jaw going slack as his mouth stretches into a grin. Almost as quickly, the smile turns into a scowl.

“Play in your uniform,” Ben says, nodding solemnly.

Ben introduces the guys to Hux, who simply nods and stuffs his tie inside his pants pocket, twisting his ankles this way and that. They give Hux a few minutes to stretch before starting to play again. The guys on Ben’s team seem confident because of their lead, not to mention the fact that the new guy is playing in slacks and a collared shirt. Only Ben really knows the dangers of playing with Hux.

This changes almost as soon as the game resumes and Hux steals the ball on the first possession. He bounce passes it between the legs of one skins player to one of his teammates, who quickly makes a basket. The guy runs up to him with a raised hand, and Hux only pauses for a beat before high-fiving him. 

Ben steps behind the arc and tosses the ball to Hux, who tosses it back and bends his knees, hitching his pants up with his hands. Ben is grinning at him, wriggling his eyebrows before making to drive for the basket. He’s too pleased with himself, and all Hux has to do is poke his hand in and the ball is his. He turns and makes the shot easily from behind the arc, smiling sadly at Ben and tapping his chest with his open palm.

“I told you guys this was a bad idea,” Ben says, shaking his head at his teammates.

Hux cuts down the lead pretty quick, his teammates not even bothering to hide their strategy of “pass the ball to the new guy.” 

It happens after the shirts take the lead at 47-48, when Hux steals the ball again from a guy Ben had earlier introduced as Mo, who then lunges for it back. One minute Hux is on the ground, his palm cut and bleeding, Mo standing over him, apologizing and trying to help him up, and the next, the guy is being thrown to the ground away from him. Before Hux can even comprehend anything, Ben is on top of the guy, wailing and throwing punches.

It takes four guys to haul him off of Mo, who looks shaken and is sporting a bloody lip and what will no doubt turn into a black eye. Ben pushes against the guys holding him and stomps towards Hux. He grips Hux’s shoulders and pulls him up, holds his face in his hands to check that he’s okay, before looking down at his bleeding right hand.

They walk back to Hux’s car without saying a word. Hux reaches over Ben’s scraped knees to open the glove compartment for a bottle of antiseptic he keeps there for exactly this reason. Ben takes it from him, pours the dark liquid over Hux’s tie (good thing he has more than one back home) and wraps Hux’s bleeding palm.

“Fucking Mo,” Ben grits out when he’s done tying the knot.

Hux drives back to Ben’s house silently, gripping the wheel with his good hand and ignoring Ben. Ben doesn’t even seem to notice, he just keeps ranting about Mo and how he’s always been too physical, even when they were kids, until they get to his house. Ben steps out of the car then bends down to peer at Hux.

“Aren’t you coming in? I just need to shower real quick.”

“That’s okay, I think I’ll just go home,” Hux says flatly, looking straight ahead.

“What about dinner,” Ben asks, half inside the car again.

“Forget about dinner,” Hux snaps, finally turning to glare at him.

“Hux, what–“

“What the fuck was that, Solo? You think I can’t take care of myself, or something? Mo didn’t even mean to push me, and you just beat the crap out of him!”

“He hurt y–“

“I don’t fucking care, you’re not my knight in shining armor, jesus!” If he’s being honest, it’s not the fight or the fact that Ben apparently thinks he’s a weakling that’s causing this outburst, but Hux is never honest about his insecurities, not even to himself.

“You’re being totally unreasonable, Hux.” Ben’s voice is starting to shake with anger now, but Hux can tell he’s struggling to keep his cool. “Come inside, please. I’ll just be a minute.”

“Look, you obviously did not want to come to dinner anyway.” And there it is, he’s laid it all out for Ben to see. Hux reaches over and shuts the passenger door. “I wish you’d just said so before I wasted my time driving here.”

He slams his foot on the gas and peels out of Ben’s street.

* * *

  
To say that Hux is miserable during dinner would be an understatement. Despite having taken a shower and tending to his cut palm as soon as he got home, he still feels like several layers of blood and dirt are caking his skin. His palm itches, his ass hurts, and he keeps staring at the extra place setting next to his.

“Sweetie, I thought your friend, Ren was joining us?” Marion finally asks when Hux sighs heavily for what seems like the hundredth time.

“Ben.”

“Hmm?”

“His name is Ben and he’s an ass.” He pokes at his perfectly cooked lamb chop, bringing his fork to his mouth without really tasting the meat.

“What happened, did you guys have a fight?” Marion reaches over and squeezes his arm lightly.

“I’d really rather not talk about it over my birthday dinner, Mother.” He downs his glass of champagne in one gulp and refills it.

“All right,” Marion says, pulling her hand back and wiping the corners of her mouth with her napkin. She reaches behind her and produces a medium-sized black box, pushing it towards him. “Here, why don’t you open my gift.”

Despite Brendol giving Hux a wad of cash on his birthdays and saying it’s from Marion and him, Marion always sneaks her son something more personal. Hux opens the box and finds that this year’s gift is a Halda Race Pilot. The black box is lined with red silk inside, housing a hard leather pouch, the watch and the extra module.

“I confess I didn’t really understand anything the man was saying, but there’s one mechanical, and one electronic…watch face thing. I know you like old-fashioned things, but the electronic one’s pretty cool, too.”

“It’s beautiful, mom,” Hux says, and for some reason, he gets choked up. “I’ll be switching modules a lot, I’m sure.”

Felicia comes over soon after to retrieve their dinner plates, Marion eyeing Hux’s barely touched food but saying nothing. Paulene comes out of the kitchen with two plates of Mango-Basil vacherin, a lit candle on top of the one she places in front of Hux.

“Happy birthday, käraste,” Paulene says sweetly, kissing the top of Hux’s head.

“Thanks, Pol.” He musters what little energy he has into a smile, but it feels horrible on his face. “The food’s amazing, why didn’t you join us?”

“You know I don’t like leaving the kitchen when I’m cooking,” Paulene says, sitting next to him. Where Ben should have been sitting. “I’ll have dessert with you, though.”

Felicia sets another vacherin and a champagne glass in front of Paulene and stands by the table, hands clasped in front of her. The three women start singing ‘Happy Birthday’ and Hux is near tears again. He swallows thickly when they’re done and urging him to make a wish.

What does he want? Nothing. At this point, he cannot think of one thing he actually wants. How sad is that?

He takes a breath and right before he blows the candle, he thinks, _I wish Ben were here._

He escapes to his bedroom around 9, claiming exhaustion and ignoring the looks Marion and Paulene exchange each other. He calls for Millicent, wanting to just crawl into bed to cuddle with her, when he realizes she must be somewhere hovering by Paulene. Paulene always comes with some specially made salmon and tuna treat for her whenever she comes over. Hux feels a little betrayed when he remembers that Paulene is sleeping over, which means Millicent will be curled up against her side in the guest bedroom tonight and not his.

He puts his mom’s gift next to the envelope of cash on his bedside table, eyeing his phone and debating whether he should call Ben. Now that several hours have passed, and he’s no longer bleeding, he considers the possibility that he may have been too harsh and too quick to react. Perhaps Ben did want to come to dinner, to meet his mom, to spend Hux’s birthday with him. Hux is still new to all this, whatever _this_ is between them, and his knee-jerk reaction to uncertainty has always been to put up walls.

He drops face-first onto his bed, groaning against the mattress. He could have been laughing with Ben and his mom and Paulene right now. He could have watched Ben’s face light up with each bite of Paulene’s cooking. He could have held Ben’s large hand under the table, squeezed it whenever he seemed too nervous in front of Marion.

After a few more minutes of wallowing, he decides to just get ready for bed already. He goes to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth then undresses down to his boxer briefs. Instead of going straight to bed, however, he heads for his walk-in closet, rummaging around in the back until he finds what he’s looking for: Ben’s basketball jersey. He brings it to his face and inhales, which is stupid, he admits, because he’s already had it washed. Still, the soft fabric feels good against his skin when he puts it on. It’s too big for him, of course, the collar almost sliding over his shoulder.

He grabs his phone and gets to bed, resting his back against the headboard as he unlocks it. There are 13 missed calls as well as 6 messages, all from Ben.

 

> ### REN  
>     
> 
> _(sorry)_  
>  _(im sorry)_  
>  _4:30pm_  
>  _(hux pls answr ur fon)_  
>  _(HUX!)_  
>  _5:02pm_  
>  _(ure an ass)_  
>  _5:25pm_  
>  _(im sry i dnt mn dt_  
>  _pls jst call me)_  
>  _6:15pm_

 

Hux’s finger hovers over the call button for a few seconds, wanting to hear Ben’s voice, but also fearing what he’ll say in his current state. He gets emotional when he’s had a drink, and they’d gone through two bottles of champagne over dinner. He’ll just end up telling Ben how miserable he was the whole night, how this was the worst birthday he’s ever had, even worse than that time his mom had Phasma invite the entire basketball team for a surprise party at the outdoor court.

Even more troubling, he might end up telling Ben he’d wished for him right before he blew out his birthday candle.

* * *

  
Something is tapping loudly against a glass. Hux groans in his sleep, rolling over on his side and covering his head with a pillow when the tapping grows louder and more insistent. The pain in his hand, and now his whole arm, has gotten worse as he’s slept, and he’s pretty sure he has a bruise on his tailbone. Can’t a guy just sleep and recover in peace?

_“HUX!”_

He bolts upright at the sound of his name, the pillow over his head falling to the floor. It takes him a moment to get his bearings, squinting in the dark and trying to figure out whether he was just dreaming.

_”Hux, please open up.”_

Definitely not dreaming, then.

Throwing back the bed covers, he gets out of bed and walks over to the patio doors, rubbing his eye with the heel of his good hand, and finds Ben standing outside in a pair of dark slacks, a dress shirt and a hoodie. He stops in his tracks, blinking his exposed eye several times and just staring. Ben stares back, his eyes traveling from the top of Hux’s head down to his bare feet, his jaw slack.

“Hux,” Ben says again, stepping forward and tapping on the glass with his finger.

Taking a deep breath, Hux walks the rest of the way and pulls open one of the doors.

“You know this isn’t locked,” he says by way of greeting. His voice is groggy with sleep, though, so it doesn’t sound as cutting.

“Yeah, but you’re mad at me,” Ben says, almost distractedly. He’s looking at Hux’s chest, and Hux belatedly realizes why. “You’re wearing my jersey,” Ben whispers, his brow furrowing.

“So what if I am?” Hux crosses his arms over his chest, his face growing warm. He may as well have opened the door buck-naked. "How did you get here," he asks, looking around to check if Ben had gotten a ride from someone.

"I rode my bike," Ben answers, shrugging.

Hux raises his eyebrows in surprise. "In slacks and leather shoes?"

"Yeah?" Ben sounds like he doesn't know what's so incredulous about that. He steps forward, reaching his hands out then quickly dropping them. He sighs heavily and rubs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry,” he finally says. “All right? I shouldn’t have done that to Mo, I already called him to apologize and we’re all good.”

“Good,” Hux says, leaning against the doorframe. “Is that all?”

“Come on, Hux,” Ben says, stepping closer and tugging on the front of his jersey. He bends down and places a feather-light kiss on Hux’s cheekbone. “Say you forgive me.”

Hux scoffs, but Ben kisses him again, this time right by his ear.

“Say you forgive me, Hux,” Ben whispers, his breath warm against Hux’s ear, making him shiver. When Hux simply hums, Ben snakes his tongue out and pulls Hux’s earlobe into his mouth, sucking gently. “Hux.”

“Okay,” Hux whispers breathily, pushing against Ben’s chest and grabbing his face. “I forgive you.”

He doesn’t know if he pulls or if Ben pushes, but their lips are now pressed together, their tongues licking against each other, and none of it really matters to Hux, anyway. Ben picks him up easily, and Hux wraps his legs around that thick waist, reaching blindly to close the door as they go back inside the room.

Ben sits down on the bed, his hands caressing Hux’s back through the soft fabric of his jersey as he toes of his shoes. When Hux starts moving on top of him, he pulls back, grabbing Hux’s hips and licking his lips.

“Wait, wait,” he says, kissing Hux’s chin when he tisks impatiently. “I have to give you your present first.”

“Later,” Hux snaps, pushing on Ben’s chest until he’s lying back on the bed. Hux sucks the skin under Ben’s jaw, kisses down his neck, licks at his Adam’s apple when he swallows. Hux starts moving against him again, the thin fabrics separating them not doing anything to conceal their growing erections. Ben rolls them over so that he’s on top of Hux, resting his hands on the mattress and pushing up as he moves his hips down in slow circles, watching Hux’s face. Hux closes his eyes and bites his lip, ankles pushing against Ben’s lower back.

Reaching behind him, Ben unhooks Hux’s ankles, pulling away from him despite his protests. “Just let me give you your gift, please.”

“All right, fine.” Hux growls in annoyance, pushing up off the bed, and resting his weight on his elbows.

Ben produces a flat brown box from the pocket of his sweatshirt. It’s not wrapped, but he’s tied a red ribbon around it. “Here,” he says sheepishly, placing it gingerly on Hux’s stomach. Right in front of the tent he’s pitching.

He sits up fully before taking the box in his hand, letting it rest on top of his bandaged palm as he pulls on the ribbon. Lifting the lid, he finds a small card that simply reads, _’For the Most Valuable Person.’_ He smiles at this, his eyebrows knitting together as he leans over and kisses Ben’s cheek.

He finds a small silver basketball pendant attached to a ball chain under the card, a number 30, his jersey number, wedged between two of the curved lines. His breath catches at the thoughtful gift; he’s not exactly used to getting such specifically personal gifts.

“This is really cool, Ben. Did you get this custom-made?”

“Um, yeah…” Ben mutters, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “By me…in shop class.”

Hux can only stare at the pendant, running his fingers over the delicate lines, his chest feeling too full. No one has ever _made_ anything for him before, not with their own hands.

“All right, come on,” Ben says suddenly, burying his face against Hux’s neck. He starts sucking on the skin over Hux’s pulse, one hand snaking between Hux’s legs and rubbing him through his briefs.

“Wait,” Hux says, pushing his hand away. “I want to put it on.”

“After,” Ben says, trying to grab the box from Hux.

“No, I’m putting it on now.”

Ben pouts as he watches Hux pull the chain over his head, patting the small pendant hanging over his chest.

“How does it look,” Hux asks, turning his body to face Ben. He looks down and laughs, realizing that he’s now wearing both his and Ben’s numbers. “Perfect, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Ben says, smiling and nodding slowly.

“Now, what do you mean by _‘after’_?”

Ben’s smile widens mischievously. “Well, that’s just your _bonus_ gift.”

“My bonus gift?” Hux’s eyebrows shoot up, resting his hands on the mattress and leaning back. “Well where’s my actual gift?”

Ben licks his lower lip, placing a hand on Hux’s chest and pushing him down on the bed. He follows shortly, kissing Hux’s cheek softly and inching closer to his mouth. When he reaches the corner of it, he pulls back and looks at Hux’s eyes. Hux smiles up at him, watching as he takes a deep breath as if to steel himself to say something, but when he opens his mouth, he stops and just surges forward, capturing Hux’s mouth in his.

Ben’s kisses turn demanding, his tongue pushing through Hux’s lips and teeth, his hand roaming down Hux’s body. He palms Hux’s erection over his jersey, rubbing up and down and swallowing Hux’s moans. Pretty soon, Hux’s hips are pushing up against Ben’s hand, and his hands are scrabbling against Ben’s neck. 

“Take your clothes off,” Hux whispers, biting Ben’s lower lip before sucking it into his mouth. He pushes Ben’s sweatshirt off of his broad shoulders. “I want to feel your skin.”

Ben complies immediately, sitting back and shucking his sweatshirt and tossing it on the floor. Hux sits up and helps with his buttons when he takes too long on his shirt.

“You’re not used to having buttons on your shirt or something?” Hux jokes, leaning over and biting at Ben’s neck and smiling when he yelps.

“Not really, no,” Ben answers, leaning his head against Hux’s. “I’m a jeans and sweater kind of guy. Unless someone’s died.”

Hux pulls back and looks at Ben exasperatedly.

“Please don’t talk about people dying right now.”

“Sorry.”

They get to work on Ben’s pants after tossing the shirt next to his sweater, Hux unbuckling the belt and staring at Ben’s face. 

“Why are you dressed so nicely, anyway?”

Ben ducks his head, resting his forehead on Hux’s shoulder as his hand rubs up and down Hux’s pale arm.

“I picked this outfit out when you first invited me to dinner,” he mumbles, kissing Hux’s shoulder. “I bought this stupid shirt right after school.”

He pulls back and meets Hux’s gaze. Despite the blush on his cheeks, his eyes are confident and sincere. 

“I really wanted to come to dinner, Hux. I promise.”

Hux’s brow furrows, and he looks down at his hands on Ben’s zipper, nodding slowly. “Okay. I really wanted you here, too. I wished you were here before I blew out my candle.”

“Why did you think I didn’t want to come?”

Hux shrugs his shoulder, pursing his lips and reaching inside the slit of Ben’s boxers to pull out his cock. He wraps his hand around it, concentrating on his movements to avoid Ben’s questioning eyes. Ben’s hips start to move, too, pushing up and down, chasing the friction.

“H-hux,” Ben stammers, starting to pant. His hand squeezes Hux’s shoulder. “Hh-…why?”

Hux swallows when a little bead of precome leaks out of Ben’s cock. “Might have been too soon for you,” he whispers, his hand moving faster.

“I’ve…m-met your…”

Hux finally looks up and watches Ben’s face, biting his lip when Ben shuts his eyes in pleasure. Ben’s mouth has this strange pull on him, it always draws him in whenever his eyes land on it. He leans over and kisses Ben, his other hand holding the back of Ben’s head, pulling him closer.

He pushes his thumb over the slit on Ben’s cock, drags the little bead of come down the shaft, and Ben moans against his mouth. He bends down to swirl his tongue around the head of Ben’s cock, then sucks it into his mouth, closing his eyes at the pressure its girth puts on his lips.

“No, wait,” Ben pants, pushing Hux off of him.

“What? I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Hux wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking down at the thick flushed cock in his hand.

“No, that was…” Ben sighs. “Tonight is about you. I want to…pleasure _you._ ” The flush on his face deepens, as if his embarrassment at saying the word 'pleasure' is more overwhelming than getting his cock sucked off.

“Ben,” Hux says seriously, waiting until Ben meets his eyes. “Having your giant cock inside my mouth _does pleasure me._ ”

Ben’s eyes darken, and his breathing grows even shallower as he watches Hux scoot back on the bed to give himself space.

Hux licks his lips before taking Ben inside his mouth again, taking what he can and covering the rest with his hands. He swallows and sucks, cheeks hollowing, head bobbing up and down as his hands squeeze and pump Ben. He sets a steady pace, moaning as he feels his underwear getting wet with his own precome.

“Hu-uux,” Ben whines. “Please.”

“Hmm?”

The vibration this wordless question causes makes Ben’s hip buck up against his face.

“Sh-shit, sorry,” Ben says frantically, holding Hux’s shoulder and pulling his cock out. Before Hux can say anything, he’s pushed on his back, and Ben is rucking his jersey over his stomach.

Ben covers his hand when he grabs the hem of the jersey to remove it.

“No, keep it on.”

A shiver runs down Hux’s spine at the possessive look on Ben’s face, and he watches as Ben pushes his own pants off, leaving his cock hanging out of his boxers. Ben lies on his stomach between Hux’s legs, nuzzling the hard-on straining against Hux’s boxer briefs. He kisses up the shaft then sucks on the darker spot where Hux has started leaking, holding his hips down with his hands.

“Ben, please.”

Ben moans, licking him through the fabric, and Hux’s hand tangles in Ben’s hair. The hands on his hips move to the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down to his knees. Again, Ben nuzzles his cock almost reverently before licking up the shaft, sucking on the head. Hux fights to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss Ben’s plump lips kissing the edge of his cut, pink tongue snaking out to lick at the underside of it.

“Beh-eehn,” Hux whines, hips gyrating against the bed.

Ben suddenly grabs the underwear trapping Hux’s knees, lifts it up so his legs are in the air, exposing him thoroughly.

“Wait! What…Ben!” Hux struggles to lower his legs, but Ben’s free hand pushes against his thigh until his knees touch his chest. Ben rests Hux’s legs over his left shoulder, smiling when Hux looks at him in alarm.

“Trust me, you’ll like this,” Ben says, kissing his thigh. “And if you don’t, tell me and I’ll stop.”

“Wait, wh-what are you–“ 

Hux’s hands are scrabbling at the sheets around him, trying to pull himself up so he can see what Ben is doing, but then his head falls on the bed when he feels Ben spreading his ass cheeks open. Ben starts licking around his entrance, swirling his tongue then blowing lightly at the wet spot.

Hux whines loudly, hips moving up to chase Ben’s tongue. Ben hums then sucks the skin right next to Hux’s hole, his lips making obscene noises that are barely drowned out by his own moans. He licks the spot and moves back to Hux’s entrance, hands spreading him wider as he licks inside.

Tears start forming at the corners of Hux’s shut eyes, and he’s all but pulled out his bed covers.

“R-Ren,” he moans, twisting his body and burying his face in the mattress. “Mmph.”

Ben pulls his underwear down to his ankles so his knees can part and rest on either side of his chest, giving him full view of those lips sucking on his ass. Thank all the deities he showered when he got home.

Ben eats ass like a starving man, eyes closed in pleasure, saliva dripping down his chin, moaning and groaning with ever dip of his tongue. He curls and twists his tongue inside, hands gripping Hux’s quivering thighs, and Hux loses it.

_”Shitfuckingfuckass, REN!”_

Ben pulls back a little, looking down at Hux’s entrance proudly then rubbing his lips all over it. Hux whines again, back arching.

“Touch me, Ren. Please.”

Ben finally removes his briefs completely, freeing Hux’s legs and letting them drop on the bed. He sits up and removes his boxers with one hand, while the other reaches for the bedside table’s drawer. He fumbles around for a few seconds, smiling when his fingers wrap around the now familiar bottle as well as a foil packet.

He slicks Hux’s cock with the lubricant, tossing the bottle on top of a pillow after replacing the cap. He wraps one arm around Hux’s waist then flips him over so he’s on his hands and knees on the bed. He wraps one hand around Hux, biting his lip at the sight of the slippery head peaking in and out of his fist. Hux starts to move back and forth, head thrown back, eyes shut tight. He moans loudly when Ben’s free hand cups his ass cheek and he starts licking inside him again. He can feel every movement of Ben’s jaw, imagines his whole plush mouth covering his entrance while his large hand milks him.

Hux spills all over Ben’s fist, his moans guttural, loud and incoherent. Ben wrings him through it, pushing his tongue in and out of his puckering hole.

When he no longer feels Ben’s mouth on him, he suddenly feels incomplete, as if he was made with that wet tongue licking into him. He lets Ben’s free arm wrap around his waist, maneuvering him around the bed so he’s lying on his right side, Ben’s body curling around his back. Ben kisses behind his ear before whispering, “I’m going to fuck you now, okay?”

Hux nods lazily, burying his face against the pillow as he feels Ben’s lube-and-come-covered fingers sliding in and out of his still oversensitive entrance. Ben doesn’t take his time, he works his way up to three fingers quickly, stretching Hux out efficiently. Vaguely, Hux hears the condom wrapper being torn open, and then a few seconds later, the bottle of lube being uncapped then recapped. The fingers disappear inside him, only to be gently placed on his hip when he feels Ben’s cock lined up.

Ben’s mouth is by his ear again, kissing and whispering softly as he pushes in. Hux gasps when Ben bottoms out, his whole body feeling like one big raw nerve, and when Ben starts moving languidly, he places one hand on the mattress to brace himself so he can push his hips back. Ben tilts his hips, knowing exactly where he is most sensitive, and just like that, Hux is starting to get hard again. Every thrust grazes his prostate so that he’s a panting and quivering mess again.

He touches himself, when he can’t take it anymore, fucking his own hand as Ben’s hand hooks under his knee to bury himself deeper inside Hux. He knows when Ben is about to come, he always does, so he pumps his hand faster, wanting to reach his orgasm at the same time.

Ben’s hips are slamming against his back brutally now, his teeth biting down on Hux’s neck in an attempt to stifle his groans.

“I love you,” Ben suddenly blurts out, hips stuttering as he releases Hux’s knee to pull on his hip again. “Fuck fuck, jesus christ, I love you so much!”

Ben starts babbling randomly when Hux comes again, his hole clenching and unclenching around Ben’s cock. Hux waits until Ben’s movements slow down, and then finally stop.

When Ben’s arm wraps around his waist, Hux twists his head around, and even though some part of him thinks it’s filthy, he kisses Ben’s mouth lazily. Ben smiles when he pulls back, big brown eyes blinking sleepily.

“Happy birthday,” Ben says, slurring the words.

Hux looks at the clock on his bedside table and smiles. “It’s not my birthday anymore.”

“I don’t care, everyday is your birthday if we get to do that every time.”

Hux chuckles then hisses when Ben slowly pulls out of him. He hears Ben pulling the condom off and knotting it as he grabs tissues from the box on his bedside table to wipe his hand with. He turns around, tosses the sticky wad into the trash can and pulls the covers over them. He lies back down and tangles his legs with Ben’s.

“Hux?”

“Mmm?” Hux kisses Ben’s sweaty chest then tucks his arms between their bodies.

“If I was here for dinner, how would you have introduced me to your mom?”

Hux pulls back a little to look up at Ben. He looks both relaxed and anxious, and Hux has no idea how he manages to do so.

“Is this the talk,” he asks, one finger tracing the line of Ben’s lower lip. “Are we about to have the talk?”

“I think so, yeah,” Ben says, fingers playing with the hem of his-and-now-Hux’s jersey.

“I’d have said, ‘Mother, this is Ben, my…incompetent rival.’”

Ben pinches his waist, pouts when Hux squirms and slaps his hand.

“My boyfriend! I’d have called you my boyfriend, okay?”

Ben’s whole face lights up, and he pulls him closer to his chest, resting his chin on Hux’s head.

"I think I should go soon," Ben drawls, even as his arms tighten around Hux. "If I fall asleep, I won't wake up till Tuesday."

"You're mad," Hux says, kissing the skin near Ben's left nipple. "I'm not letting you ride your bike all the way back to your place. You're staying the night."

"But your parents–"

My father is in London, and my mother doesn't wake up until noon when she's had a drink."

"Felicia?" Ben is starting to slur his syllables.

"Knows not to come into my room until I've had my breakfast."

"Okay."

"We'll have lunch with mom tomorrow. We can pretend you just came over for that."

"Hmm...'kay."

Hux looks up and sighs heavily. Ben looks so peaceful and content. "Ben?" Hux whispers, leaning up and kissing Ben's chin lightly. When Ben doesn't so much as stir, he smiles and closes his eyes, too.

"I love you, too."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Phasma's gift](http://www.prezzybox.com/w-anchor-mug.aspx).  
> [Marion's gift](http://www.haldasweden.com/race-pilot/).  
>  Ben's gift can be found in this series' moodboard over [here](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com/post/147390670083/hux-grabs-the-front-of-his-jersey-and-pulls-him).
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com).


End file.
